


our love was never meant to last

by princessoftheworlds



Series: It's not a crime to love what you cannot explain [28]
Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, F/M, Gen, Hope isn't Klaus's daughter here, She's his granddaughter, Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:22:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: When Hope Mikaelson begs her grandfather Klaus for a story, he tells her off a love long-lost. Seventy years ago, Klaus Mikaelson, then a RAF pilot, tumbled into the sea when his plane was shot down and was rescued by a beautiful girl with sunshine hair, a wolfish smile, and a silver tail. Their story was tragic and never meant to last.For Day One of Klaroline AU Week 2019.





	our love was never meant to last

One of Hope’s earliest memories begins like this:

It is a late summer afternoon in Albany, New York. The house is empty; Hope’s parents and grandmother are away running errands. The air is muggy and thick enough to choke on; Hope’s grandfather sits in his rickety old rocking chair on the porch to take refuge from the scorching rays of the sun. Hope perches at the edge of the porch, only a small distance away, kicking her slender feet out in no discernable rhythm. She stares out into the empty street in boredom, finding no fellow children to run out and play with.

It's too hot; everyone is avoiding the heat, choosing to remain indoors with the artificial chill of their air conditioners and fans.

Her grandfather leans back in the chair, and it creaks as he shifts his weight. He too cannot stave his impatience with the spy thriller he had been reading, so he sets it aside, down on the floor.

“Would you like to hear a story, Hope?”

His voice, a low baritone tinged with an eclectic mix between a Southern and British accent, is a startling relief from the sleepy silence of the neighborhood, and Hope perks up, turning to face him.

“Yes! That would be awesome! I am so bored.” She stretches out the syllables of her words in child-like exaggeration, pouting up at her grandfather.

“There are several that I can think of…” he begins, but Hope interrupts.

“No, grandad!” she cries. “You’ve already told me all of your stories.” Hope blinks eyes heavy with exhaustion up at him. “Tell me a new one.”

“A new story?” her grandfather mutters, stormy eyes going distant as he thinks back. Having decided on one, he turns his attention back to his granddaughter and smiles gently. “I think there is one story from your old grandad that you have never heard.”

* * *

_I know that you have learned somewhat about the Second World War at school. It was a terrible war; there were so many innocent deaths, so much violence. But, I was never involved directly in the fighting._

_No, I was a pilot. I flew airplanes for the British Royal Air Force. We often went on dangerous missions; it wasn’t always a guarantee that we would come back home. And, what we were doing, dropping bombs to destroy German U-boats, it wasn’t a terribly-good thing to do. But we were saving lives._

_On one such mission in…September of 1945, I think, I was flying over the ocean. The Atlantic Ocean, it is the ocean between the United States and Great Britain._

_Around me, the sky was surrounded in inky darkness; it was nighttime. And it was raining, such stormy weather that hadn’t been seen all summer. Still, I was safe inside my airplane._

_Suddenly…I saw a flash of fiery light streaking toward me; it hit my plane with such a loud boom that my ears still rang for moments after._

_My plane had been hit by fire from an enemy pilot._

_They had ruined my plane’s engine, and I no longer had control. The plane began to plummet down so swiftly that my head smacked against the ceiling, and I was knocked unconscious._

_I woke up once, only briefly. I had somehow fallen out of the plane, and I was dropping towards the ocean like a stone. My side was aching; I could not feel it, but I was paralyzed with fear and shock. I thought I was going to die, and I passed out again._

_Once more I woke up. I had just plunged underwater; it was freezing, my entire body ached, and the water kept dragging me further down._

_I opened my mouth to breath, a stupid mistake. The water rushed into my mouth, filling up my lungs, stinging the way skinning a knee does but everywhere. I tried to swim, I reached out a hand to claw my way out of the water, but it was too heavy, my body was too heavy. I only sank faster._

_The water burned like hot lava in my stomach after I was forced to swallow some._

_Everything began to become fuzzy at the edges, and I couldn’t tell upside from down. Still, I fought to keep my eyes open, but it was a losing battle._

_And, then, imagine this._

_Just as all I could see became darkness, there was a flash of silver, almost like light. It was shimmery, metallic. And I tried to reach for it._

_But my body was still not under my control._

_I thought I saw a face, a human face, but that was not possible. No one could be underwater with me._

_I could not ponder this, because unconsciousness came quickly._

* * *

_When I came to, I saw the brightest sky I had ever seen. Brilliant and clear, not a cloud to be seen. And below me? The softest, purest sand ever felt against the exposed skin of my arms._

_I shifted against the sand, pain licking like flames down my sides. I was in the most agony that I had ever felt. Something hot was boiling up in my throat, and I gagged, unsuccessful in keeping it down. I turned my head and vomited the remains of my last meal onto the sand; I kept my eyes away from the mess. My stomach roiled again as I dry-heaved._

_Something hovered into my view._

_A face. The face I had caught a brief glimpse of underwater._

_It was a woman-no, it was a girl._

_She was beautiful, yes, but did not surpass my childhood sweetheart Camille in beauty. Her skin was unblemished and fair like the sand I lay against, and her hair, hanging loose further than I could see, was a sunshine yellow, though it gleamed even more golden when it caught the light. But, more remarkable, was the keen intelligence that shone in the depths of her cerulean eyes, muddled against the stare of a predator._

_I craned my head to allow my gaze to travel further than her delicate collarbones and a slash of nearly sheer fabric that covered her entire upper body; I glanced down and then immediately jerked my head back in bewilderment. I snuck another painful look to make sure that my tired eyes and brain were not playing tricks on my mind._

_This girl had a tail._

_At her waist, where Camille would wear her skirt, was a majestic tail, silver in color. It was a beauty, iridescent, wide at the waist but narrow where the flipper protruded. It flexed, shimmering with lustrous color under the rays of the luminous sun._

_My brain could not compensate for both the agony and the impossibility of a girl with the tail of a fish._

_I screamed, the sound ripping itself from my throat. It was the sound of a wild man, a man losing his soul; it was a sound that I believed myself incapable of making until that moment. I screamed myself hoarse, until my throat rubbed raw against itself as I attempted to make noise, but the girl with a tail made no indication to move._

_Finally, when all the noise and all the fight was drained out of me, sucked away and replaced by an exhaustion so heavy I felt it in my bones, the girl lunged into my view. I could not flinch away; my limbs dragged against each other as I attempted to move._

_She opened her lips, a slash of bright color against the white sand, and I braced my body, stiffening away the best I could._

_But she spoke not._

_No, she sang._

_And her song, oh her song, light, airy, melodious, unlike anything I had ever heard. It was distant at first, the hushed background noise of a radio while the channel is being adjusted. It was still one of the most beautiful sounds in the world._

_Then I began to _listen_._

_It was harmonious, it was precise, her song was in tune with the rhythmic beating of my heart._

_A magical spell was woven in her music, in her song, in her voice. Her voice wove threads in my mind, dulled it until I could no longer refuse to obey, fogged the rest of my brain until the slapping of ocean waves no longer registered. The color of my vision faded, her face disappearing, only her voice left as my guiding focus._

_Her voice paralyzed my body. I could not flinch, I could not tremble, I could not resist._

_So, I obeyed her song._

_And my mind slept._

* * *

_For a second time, my mind stirred, and my eyes fluttered open. The aching in my bones was now a lingering memory, my pain receptors somehow dulled so my body was temporarily relaxed from the pain. There was faint light filtering from above, though my eyes were staring straight ahead at the slate cavernous ceiling of a cave. My body rested on a surface more solid than the sand had been, but my fingers twitched unconsciously and stroked against the slippery silk of cloth._

_I shifted my body; there was heat flaring over my body suddenly, so thick it weighed heavy in my chest and lungs. I coughed, a million bees buzzed in my mouth and throat._

_Immediately, there was relief in the form of a cool, soaked rag draped against the delicate skin of my forehead. The difference in temperature was as distinct as the difference between black and white. Water trickled down the sides of my temples, and I sighed audibly._

_The rag was a heavenly gift to me in my poor state._

_I turned my face towards my savior as a blind man would to the sun, but, immediately, I recoiled and tried to shove myself further away._

_The girl had placed the rag on my forehead and was now lifting it. I traced the paths of her slender hands with my eyes and watched as she dipped the rag into a small pot likely filled with water, allowing the cloth to become weighty. Then, in rapid, harsh movements, she retrieved the rag, squeezed the liquid from it thoroughly, and returned it to its position on my forehead._

_Her hand brushed against the prickling skin on my forehead; her skin was smooth and soft against the dampness of my temple._

_I stiffened, heart roaring to life, but there was no escape. Despite the lack of pain in my body, I was pinned between her and the cavern wall._

_“Get away from me,” I demanded weakly, bursting into a fit of violent coughing that left me doubled over. Even speaking strained my voice after my bout of screaming…days ago? Hours ago? Time seemed to have passed so sluggishly since I fell from my plane that I could no longer tell._

_She ignored me._

_“Humans.” She clicked her tongue with strange indifference. Her voice was cool, evenly-pitched, almost throaty. It struck me as odd; after hearing her song, I had expected her speaking voice to also be honeyed and lilting. “So clumsy and fragile.”_

_Singing…_

_“What did you do to me?” I blurted in outrage and immediately regretted it when my throat ached._

_“Hmm?” The girl swept the rag from my forehead, and, though the heat was swiftly returning, I shivered. “What did I do?”_

_“You forced me to sleep!” I protested._

_“Oh, yes. That,” she replied tonelessly, as though it had suddenly occurred to her. “I sung to you.”_

_“You _sung to me_?” I managed to prop my head up at a slight angle; my eyes unconsciously travelled back to her waist._

_I would have blushed at the shamelessness of my gaze, several years in the air force had not trained away the innocence and decency ingrained in me by my family and culture, but my eyes were then popping out of my head at her current lack of tail._

_“You have legs!” I gasped audibly. “Where did your legs go?”_

_She rolled her cerulean eyes, a gesture usually found uncouth on most ladies but that strangely suited her. Once again, she ignored my question. “You have several broken ribs and deep surface wounds. None are critical, but some may scar and mar your pretty face.”_

_I was unsure if she meant that as a compliment._

_The girl continued, “I have treated your wounds with a paste made of lavender and wintergreen; both are natural anesthetics. Your ribs I have numbed with a gel of clove oils. They must heal internally, and you must keep them tightly wrapped.”_

_“Why are you doing this?” I must have mumbled, and the girl smiled, a wolf smile not fit for her fair features._

_“I don’t like my victims untainted.”_

_The air was snuffed from my lungs, and the blood must have drained from my face, leaving my countenance considerably paler, because the wolf girl’s wolf smile grew wider._

_“Relax,” she purred, voice silky and deceptive. “I won’t harm you. I don’t like getting my hands dirty. I only sing humans to death; that’s where the fun is, the deception and the chase and the hunt. I’m a predator.”_

_Chills ran down my spine, warning bells echoing in my ears. “Dangerous girl, what kind of creature are you?” I managed to gasp through my strangled throat._

_“Silly human boy.” Wolf girls’ laughs were not meant to sound like tinkling silver bells. “I am a monster. I lure boys like you in and watch you crash to your own death into rocks. I am a siren like in those myths humans are so proud of. I change form at will.” The tense silence that stretched between her next words brought tentative hope to my heart. “I will heal you, and then you will leave.”_

_I had no time to flinch when she yanked the threadbare fabric of my shirt up and ripped wraps of fabric away from the skin that covered my ribs. If the pain had not been dampened, I would have howled._

_She would have likely sneered in satisfaction._

_“Hold your shirt away from your skin,” the siren ordered, and I obeyed out of fear. “I must replace your bandages. I will return in a moment.”_

_I must have drifted off from the exertion of my body, because, when I focused my dazed eyes, there was a subtle gleaming between new cloth on my ribs, likely more numbing gel._

_My stomach growled noisily._

_Strange. My brain had not registered hunger._

_The siren materialized at my side, clutching what appeared to be a hollow coconut shell. Something sloshed inside it as she shoved it none-to-gently toward me._

_“What is that?” I mumbled. When she raised an eyebrow, I repeated my words with more volume._

_“Food,” she replied crisply. “Careful when you raise yourself up.”_

_She lent no helping hand as I tenderly propped myself up, leaning my back against the hard rock behind me. I retrieved the shell from her hands, avoiding skin contact._

_The liquid inside the coconut was thick and slightly murky, though the color was most likely due to the small herbs dotting its surface. I raised the lip of the shell to my mouth and tilted; the brew had a sharp, sour flavor that I did not shy away from. It reminded me of my mother Esther’s chicken stew, something I had not had in several years, or at least not since rationing began in England._

_My hunger took over me, and I drained the shell. Some liquid dribbled over my lips as I swallowed; I wiped the excess away with the back of my hand as I set the shell on the cot besides me._

_The siren watched me with clever eyes, smile finally gone._

_Hunger momentarily quelled, my body not in any immediate trouble, I surveyed the cave in which we rested._

_The space was small and tidy, furnished with a mishmash of objects like the cot I was laying on, a burgundy rug embroidered with ornate patterns, or the curtains of translucent cloth that fluttered as a light breeze brushed through the entrance of the cavern._

_“Where am I?” I dared question._

_“An island,” came her brief response._

_“An island where?”_

_The siren’s eyes glimmered as jewels would. “That is not a concern of yours when you remain in this condition. You are to remain on this island, my island, under my care until you recover to near-perfect condition.”_

_“Do I have a say in this?”_

_“No.” Her refusal was perfunctory but decisive, and I realized that I did, in fact, _not _have a say in my condition._

_“Sleep,” she instructed, and, though this time her words were more of a mere suggestion, I still heeded them._

_For several days, we existed like that. I slept on the cot, feeling as if my legs were deteriorating from their lack of movement. The siren would drift into the cavern occasionally to change my bandages or apply more ointment or forcibly hand me a shell of the same brew. She would always disappear to the water at nightfall, always wearing dresses of the same nearly-sheer fabric. My pain remained numbed for most of the passing time, leaving me to assume that the siren slipped her painkilling substance in my meals._

_We shared vague, undisturbed conversation. She never proved intimidating after the day I first awoke, though she behaved as if I remained uninteresting._

_One of our exchanges went like this:_

_“Have you no name I may call you?” I asked her as she scraped a paste of herbs for my next ointment. It had been less than a week after I nearly drowned, and I lounged the best I could against the solid surface of the cot._

_“What may I call you?” she shot back rapidly, clever hands at swift work._

_I detected no venom in her taunts, a usual occurrence of late; it seems that she was beginning to warm up to me. “Klaus,” I told her._

_“Klaus.” She tested my name several times, weighing it on her tongue with curiosity. “What is the significance of your name?” Her voice had taken a near childlike quality._

_“It is a diminutive of Niklaus, which means victory of the people in a certain language.”_

_“Victory?” The siren’s full lips curled into a soft expression, lacking the sharpness of her wolf smile. “What war are you fighting?”_

_Her question struck a chord with me, and I laughed hollowly. “No war that I can win.”_

_She eyed me intuitively before nodding silently, her hair bobbing along with the movement of her head. “You may call me whatever you please. I have no name and have grown accustomed to the titles others award me.”_

_It took mere seconds until inspiration struck me. “May I call you Caroline?” I briefly knew a Caroline once, a daughter of distant family acquaintances, and something about the sharp stare of the curious siren reminds me of her._

_The siren nodded her assent, and Caroline she became._

* * *

_“Why do your fellow humans war in the sky and in the sea?” she questioned only a few days later._

_I gaped at her in astonishment. This was one inquiry I had never expected. “We’re fighting a war,” I finally managed to reply. “The last war like this that my country fought in was called the war to end all wars. It seems that this might be the war to end all wars.”_

_“What is the conflict?”_

_“Conflict?” I echoed with bewilderment._

_“Why does your country fight?”_

_“We must crush the forces that threaten the will of the world as I know it,” I stated, a sentiment I had heard from many of my fellow pilots._

_She glances at me and then away, as if one view into my eyes has exposed my meager secrets. “And why do you fight?”_

_“I fight, because my country chose me to,” I reply swiftly, but she had heard what I had left unsaid_

_“But you do not choose to,” Caroline guessed._

_My silence served as confirmation._

_Her eyes softened to the closest that I had seen as kindness in her expressions. “It was never my intent to force you to sleep against your will,” she confessed, “but it was a necessity for your body to heal.”_

_“I have never had my mind turned against my will until that instance,” I commented quietly. “I never intend for it to happen again.”_

_“Take this as my word. Or, rather as my vow.” Caroline had been kneeling on the rug besides my cot, but, now, she rose to look down upon me. “I will never sing to you again,” she promised sincerely. _

_After that day, the last vestiges of our stony animosity were washed away, and we treated each other as equals, dare I say friends._

* * *

_Several days later, Caroline determined that my wounds had healed well-enough for her to allow me to venture outside._

_First, however, she urged me to practice walking around the cave._

_It was easier said than done._

_Despite Caroline’s assistance in slipping off the cot, the moment I attempted to stand I wobbled so critically that I would have fallen had Caroline not been there to catch me._

_“Steady,” she murmured, eyes shifting down to my trembling legs. “Take this step by step, and, soon, you will be able to stand.”_

_How odd had our acquaintanceship become that it never once occurred to me to doubt her words._

_Steady step by steady step, I spent hours that day relearning how to walk, and not once did Caroline ever leave my side._

_At the end, I was trembling and sweating, my legs aching hollowly as if I had run miles and exerted my body more tremendously than I had done, but I had managed to walk the length of the cavern several times._

_“What did I say?” Caroline crowed as I moved to perch on the edge of the cot in exhaustion._

_“Even a blind miner strikes gold once,” I replied stubbornly._

_The next day, Caroline dragged me from my cot early in the morning._

_“What?” I groaned, rubbing my eyes blearily. My last meal had been last night, and her pain-numbing concoction’s effects were wearing off; I could feel the aching beginning, deep in my bones. If I still sustained true pain from my injuries, even after two weeks, it would hit sooner or later. “I think I’ll need more of your painkilling substance soon.”_

_“I will give it to you soon,” she promised sincerely, “but hurry!” Caroline bundled me towards the entrance of the cave while I tottered for balance. Her push was gentle but steady, and, slowly, I limped towards the lip of the cave, further than I had ever been._

_I broke through the shadow of the cave, bare feet brushing against the velvety but grainy sand, my boats having left unworn in the cave for weeks, and gasped, heart nearly thudding out of my chest as I surveyed the landscape that unfolded below me._

_The sun had just risen, casting yellow light that washed over the dark sea and formed a trail of white where the light hit the water. Around me, the dusky purple of the night sky was lightening for day, revealing a verdant forest of green to my right. The snow-like beach lay spread to my left, speckled with grey and brown boulders._

_“Of all the sights in the world,” I breathed quietly, “this is one I am glad that never went unseen.”_

_“I wouldn’t know,” Caroline admitted. “Come.” She motioned with a single hand as she began to herd me down a gentle slope that led to the beach._

_“You wouldn’t know?” I questioned curiously._

_She shook my question off and took off running towards the long stretch of beach. “Chase me,” she demanded in a joyful cry._

_I laughed loudly for the first time in weeks, and the sound echoed in the silence around me. I followed Caroline, trailing behind in a quick walk, not trusting my legs enough to run._

_In front of me, Caroline reached the water and came to an abrupt halt. She waited a few moments for me to catch up, glancing back at me with invitation in the endless oceans that were her eyes. As I grew closer, she began to chuckle, a melody almost as stunning as her song._

_She took a running start, water flying up behind her as she dashed forward, before diving forward into the water._

_As her head became submerged in the water, the air surrounding her legs began to blur slightly, as if becoming covered with a smoke screen._

_I will never be able to describe exactly how it happened, but it was almost magical, the way her legs metamorphized into her shimmering tail._

_I had reached the edge of the water and hesitated slightly._

_The memory began to loop itself in my head: how the water had reached into every crevice of my lungs, how it had filled my nostrils until I could no longer breath, how I had begun to choke, how the water weighed me down, dragging me further into its depths._

_A cool spray of water slapped me in the face, and I gasped, breaking free from that nightmare’s hold, head turning to gaze at Caroline._

_She had splashed me with the fin of her tail, and she did it again, sending a torrent of water splashing into my face._

_I only blinked slowly as my hair became plastered to my head._

_“Well,” she called eagerly, “are you coming in or not?” When I failed to respond after a brief pause, her face took on an expression of concern. “Oh. It did not occur to me that you may have retained a fear of the water after your near death.”_

_“No,” I said frantically, attempting to soothe her worries. “That is not what it is.”_

_She shook her head in refusal. “I am centuries old, Klaus. I am not oblivious. It should have occurred to me, I apologize.”_

_“No…really…” I sighed. “It is not right for me to be afraid.”_

_Caroline stared at me critically. “Why is it not right?” she asked calculatingly._

_“Men in my society,” I began softly. “We are not supposed to have such ordinary weaknesses.”_

_Snorting in disbelief, she swam up to where the shallowness of the water began, and, when she edged out of the water, she walked on her feet, skin still covered by the cloth of her dress, now soaked and floating above the water. _

_I gaped briefly, amazed by her transformation._

_She strode up to me, nearing closer until we were nose to nose. “That is complete and utter bullshit,” she snapped. “I have swum the waters of this world for far longer than you could imagine, and, of every man and women who have sailed these seas, for there have been many women, and who I have lured with my song, all were susceptible to ordinary weaknesses or fears. It is only natural. Every person has fears; one must simply be courageous enough to brave them.” Caroline seated herself on the sand and reached up a hand. “Come.”_

_I gently eased myself into the sand beside her. “You have lived long, haven’t you?”_

_“I have.”_

_“Yet you have never seen the world,” I stated in confusion._

_“I cannot,” Caroline explained. “It is not in my nature. I am not meant to walk among the humans; I am meant to be their death and destruction. I was created from sea foam to be such.”_

_“You walk alongside me; you have cared for me.”_

_She laughed in melancholy. “That is different. I will never be able to live amongst the humans; there is no point in pretending otherwise.”_

_“If I could,” I breathed. “I would take you anywhere in the world. You deserve to see it as such.”_

_“That is the kindest offer anyone has ever made me.” Her smile could have launched a thousand ships; she would have been Helen of Troy, her beauty amplified by her happiness._

_I do not know how we shifted until our sides were pressed together; I could feel the heat of her skin brushing against mine through the thin fabric of her dress and my trousers._

_She turned her face towards mine, and I must have done the same for our lips were touching._

_Her lips were soft as they brushed against mine, a whisper of butterfly wings._

_Our kiss was sweet and soulful, but there was a dissonant cacophony of danger bells clanging themselves in my head._

_I reached a tender hand to cup her face, stroking my thumb over her cheekbone, before slowly drawing my head back._

_“I cannot,” I apologized in a hushed voice. “In other circumstances, I would be able to love you, but I cannot now. My heart already belongs to another.”_

_Her eyes were understanding. “Who?”_

_“I can only show you.”_

_So, my heart writhing in emotional pain, I led her back to the cave and to the heap where my bomber jacket and boots lay. From that inner pocket, I withdrew my compass. Amazingly, it remained intact, despite all the trauma it had gone through; the lid was only the slightest bit dented. I flipped it open to reveal the photograph that lay embedded within._

_“This is Camille,” I stated softly. “We met as children.”_

_The photograph was from that last occasion we saw each other before my training, before she had gone off to work as a nurse in the war hospitals; we had gone dancing. Though the print was black and white, my mind filled in the brassy yellow of her hair - not too dissimilar to Caroline’s, the flecks of green and grey in her eyes, the rosy red of her cheeks. She remained burned in my memory: her sparkling eyes, her angular chin, the narrows of her delicate hands, the melody of her laugh._

_“Do you love her?” Caroline’s eyes were glossy with unshed tears, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips._

_“Very much.” A lovestruck expression overtook my face. “She is kind but witty; her words can be barbs on her tongue, but she never wields them to hurt, only to sooth.”_

_“She sounds lovely.”_

_“She is.” I nodded eagerly._

_Caroline laughed without venom. “Love is the one human emotion I never understood,” she said straightforwardly. “I believe I never will.”_

_I could not respond to that._

* * *

_For days after, conversation between us remained stilted and awkward until, one day, Caroline sat me down and forced me to talk about Camille._

_“I’m a sucker for love stories,” she demanded._

_I could only oblige._

_From then, we laughed and talked the way we had before._

_A day almost four weeks later, Caroline declared that my injuries had healed almost fully._

_“Now what?” I inquired as I perched on the edge of my cot._

_“I do not know.” She shrugged, hands fiddling with the cloth of her dress. “Let us eat while we ponder your next opportunities”_

_After another meal of broth, we traveled out the beach. My fear of the water had dulled slightly, enough that I did not panic when we waded out into the water as we were currently doing._

_“It never seemed that you wished to fight in your human war,” Caroline told me._

_“That is true,” I remarked. “I was drafted; I had no choice.”_

_“Do you not need to return?” she asked._

_“I do not know,” I replied truthfully._

_The war had not occurred to me in all my weeks with Caroline; it was a thing of the outside world, distant and nearly forgotten._

_“I do not need to,” I mused. “I could stay here with you.”_

_Her eyes flashed. “No, you would not survive here. Humans have short lives, and yours would end soon enough. I would be lonely again. Besides, you have family and someone who loves you.”_

_“You can come with me!” I cried passionately._

_She barked a bitter laugh. “I have already told you, Klaus. I cannot be a human; I cannot live amongst them.”_

_“Why not?” I demanded._

_Her wolf smile had returned. “You are so naïve,” Caroline hissed. “I bring death with my song. I would destroy humanity. It is not a choice; it is a compulsion. I stayed away from humans for a reason, watching from a distance. You showed me the best of humanity, but even my song was too much for you. My song will ruin you; we will never be able to live together in harmony anywhere.”_

_There was a flood of agony to my heart and head. “I have never met a soul like you,” I said, trying to appeal to her. “We could figure it out together.”_

_Her angry demeanor cracked as her eyes flooded with tears. “It will not work,” she stated simply, turning her face away._

_“How do you know?” I protested._

_“You will never understand.” She rose elegantly, like a queen. “Come with me.”_

_I did not follow. “Why?” I asked stubbornly, holding my ground, bare toes digging into the sand._

_“Please.” Her airy voice cracked with emotion I could not understand._

_At the pleading in her voice, I loosened my body and took a step towards her. “Fine.”_

_Briefly, there was brightness in her pained smile. She began to walk towards the cave, and I trailed behind her, my bewilderment growing as we entered the cave. Caroline grabbed my bomber jacket and stuffed it into my arms. “Put those on,” she ordered, gesturing to my boots. “You’ll need them where we’re going.”_

_I obeyed, asking as I balanced to pull my boots on, “Where are we going?”_

_Caroline held out a hand to me. “Wait.” The moment I had tied the laces of my boots and slid my jacket on, she led me out of the cave._

_We traveled along the cave until the path became steeper and steeper, until I was gasping for breath, though Caroline remained unaffected, until the cave became a mound of rock surrounded by dirt. We were crossing to a side of the island I had never seen before, following the line of trees from the forest but never venturing inside. Finally, roughly ten minutes later, we arrived at a small cove with a direct view to the sea. I stopped at the entrance while Caroline ventured to a large rocky overhang._

_From its shadow, she heaved out, with incredible strength, a vast wooden platform, made of logs tied tightly together, with a narrow paddle attached._

_It was a raft._

_“Sirens have always had an innate sense of the sea. For example, I know that, if you paddle out for a few hours and drift in the same direction for some more, you will find yourself in the path of a ship,” she told me nonchalantly. “It could be a U-boat, but it is more likely to be one of your country’s boats.”_

_“I do not understand,” I stuttered._

_On the contrary, however, a small seed of comprehension began to sprout in my mind._

_“You do not need to.”_

_Then, she opened her mouth again, lips stretched wide, and I understood._

_Caroline began to sing._

_It was a terrible song, music of hopelessness and frustration and sorrow and loss. Her voice, as airy and beautiful as it was, was also rough and full of turmoil, a voice of grated rocks and sharp edges. One listen would open up your heart, one listen would cut a wound, one listen would cause bleeding._

_I tried to steel myself against her voice; I stilled my heart and mind, left them as hardened as possible._

_It was futile._

_Her song drove itself into my mind, wrapped itself around my heart. Her warbling ordered my feet to move against my will, to stride toward the raft and toward her in clumsy steps._

_My body couldn’t resist as it stumbled toward her._

_I came to stand in front of her._

_“Why, why are you doing this?” I cried emotionally. “Let me stay here with you.”_

_At that moment, all thought of the war, of my home, of my Camille were driven from my mind; my only focus was Caroline._

_She turned her head to face me, still singing. Her eyes were wide, the endless water in the endless oceans of her eyes finally spilling over and down her quivering cheeks as she took minuscule gasping breaths between notes. Her lips met and parted as she articulated her music._

_My body moved itself to the raft and tugged it further to the ocean tide that teased the shore._

_Of my own accord, I called out to her, but my helpless pleading fell on deaf ears._

_I was seated on the raft, able to sprawl my full body across it and still reach the oar._

_Caroline continued to sing._

_“Please…” was all I could manage._

_She gave me a bitter, sea salt smile as one of my hands lifted the oar._

_No amount of resistance could tear my palms from the oar as my arms began to paddle, pulling the raft into the hungry tide. The song never lifted from my mind, though my heart remained free to beat in relentless agony._

_As the raft began to drift into the ocean, my head was forced to turn to face the water, until I could no longer see Caroline._

_Only her voice continued, tainting itself into my ears._

_Her song changed suddenly, no longer heavy or dark but now light and freeing. There was loss, yes, but it was overcome by the coolness of sacrifice, by the sweetness of innate selflessness._

_The siren’s song remained in my ears all the way to sea…_

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik) to let me know how much you liked this fic or request a prompt.


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